


Wicked Grace

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, but doesn't realise it, cullen blushes beautifully, dorian's in love, some fluff and feels, yeah let's get that out there right now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 16:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: This was written forthis promptfrom dapromptexchange over on tumblr:Dorian decides that he is going to be the one to return Cullen's clothes to him after the Commander's crushing defeat at the tavern.





	Wicked Grace

The laughter prompted by Cullen’s abrupt departure had faded and those who were still left were milling around prior to heading off to their own rooms. Dorian was still watching the door, his mind caught up in the fetching sight of Cullen’s delectable arse and the barest hint of a lovely long thick cock nestled in blond curls that he’d seen when the man first got up. It was a sight he’d dearly love to see again and in more detail in more private circumstances where he could take his time perusing one of the handsomest men he’d ever had the pleasure to meet.

His thought might have gone no further than that – and a little idle extrapolation in the privacy of his own room – but for the moment when Cullen’s hand had closed around the doorknob. At that moment, Cullen had looked over at him. Dorian was well aware of what his expression had probably been – full of admiration, lust and desire – but instead of anger or annoyance, Cullen’s first expression had been surprise combined with the flush of embarrassment then, just as he’d opened the door and disappeared through it, it had changed to one Dorian recognised easily – _want_. Pure, unadulterated want. That look had sent a jolt through Dorian and had kept him rooted to his seat until now.

Dorian tapped his fingers against his lips then got to his feet. He sauntered over to Josephine and leaned against the table, watching her fold Cullen’s clothes with a wicked smile on her face.

“Tell me, my dear Ambassador, what would it take for you to allow me to return those to our good Commander?”

Josephine looked up at him and Dorian felt rather abruptly stripped bare by the woman’s expression, so intent was it. She seemed to find what she was looking for, though Dorian had no idea what that might be. Or rather, he wasn’t inclined to think too hard about his motives, which she had obviously dissected easily and found acceptable.

“You can stay out of my wine cellar for a month,” she said tartly.

“A week,” he countered.

Josephine just raised an eyebrow at him and placed her hand on the pile of armour and clothing.

Dorian sighed and resigned himself to a month of the swill that masqueraded as wine in the tavern. “Done.”

Josephine smiled smugly and pushed the neatly folded pile of clothes towards Dorian. “Then they’re all yours.”

Dorian gathered the clothing and armour and gave her a short bow that drew a laugh from her. He then left the room and made his way through the stronghold towards Cullen’s rooms. There weren’t many people around this late at night though he did see a couple of chortling guards who had undoubtedly seen their Commander’s naked run. From the way they were laughing, Cullen didn’t need to worry about losing his solders’ respect. If anything, when he passed them, the two guards seemed to be reminiscing about their own shenanigans and were pleased to find that their Commander was not so different, even if he did hold a higher rank.

When he reached Cullen’s office, he didn’t bother knocking, he simply shifted the bundle of clothes and armour around until he’d freed a hand and opened the door. The office itself was empty but he could hear Cullen moving around upstairs.

“Hello?” Cullen called down from upstairs and Dorian could hear the tension in his voice.

“It’s me, Commander,” Dorian said. He placed the clothes on the desk and walked around to the bottom of the ladder, looking up. “May I come up?”

There was a long silence from upstairs and Dorian wondered how this was going to go. Was Cullen going to say no? If so, Dorian would be disappointed but he would leave. But perhaps Cullen would say yes. He doubted the man was naked up there now. Cullen _did_ have other clothes after all, little though he wore them. But the invitation to come up into his personal space? Ah, now that would send another message entirely. A good one, Dorian hoped.

“I… yes,” Cullen finally said.

Dorian smiled and climbed up the ladder. As he’d thought, Cullen had dressed and the soft breeches and shirt weren’t ones Dorian had ever seen the man wearing before. They looked exceptionally good on him and made him look softer and somehow younger. Cullen’s expression was guarded though and he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands without the pommel of his sword to rest them on.

“I brought your clothes back,” Dorian said, gesturing towards the office downstairs.

Cullen blinked. He obviously hadn’t been expecting that. “I… thank you.”

“I had to promise to stay out of Josephine’s wine cellar for a whole _month_.”

Cullen’s lips twitched. “I see. What privation you’ll have to suffer.”

“I shall be forced to subsist on the horse piss they pass off as wine in the tavern,” Dorian said, affecting a whine even as he smiled.

“That’s terrible,” Cullen said as he slowly closed the gap between them. There were nerves lurking deep in his eyes but he had an air of wonder and determination about him as well. “Is there anything I can do to help make it better? You did bring my clothes back to me after all.”

Dorian placed a hand on Cullen’s chest. The shirt was just as soft as it looked and he petted it a bit before letting his hand lie still where it was. The mood in the room wasn’t something he’d ever felt before but he liked it. He suspected he knew where things were going to go tonight but it wasn’t going to be by a path he was accustomed to. He didn’t mind though. He was nervous and uncertain, to be sure, but he wanted this more than he was comfortable admitting.

“You could kiss me?” he said, his voice light but his expression anything but.

“Would that make your month of horse piss better?” Cullen said, placing his hand over Dorian’s on his chest.

“Infinitely better.”

Cullen smiled and leaned in to press his lips against Dorian’s. The kiss was soft and gentle and so very sweet and Dorian closed his eyes against the emotion in it even as he leaned into it, wanting more. When they parted, it took a moment before Dorian opened his eyes and the only point of contact between them was the hand Dorian was still resting on Cullen’s chest with Cullen’s hand still resting over it, warm and calloused.

“That’s…” He cleared his throat. “That’s a good start.”

“A good start?’ Cullen said, looking and sounding amused.

“I have a whole month to survive,” Dorian replied.

“Of course,” Cullen said, his voice warm and fond. “And you _have_ restored my dignity.”

Dorian closed what little gap there was between them, his hand sliding around to rest on Cullen’s back. Warmth flowed through him when Cullen wrapped him up in an embrace without hesitation, as though he’d just been waiting for some indication that Dorian wanted it. Silly man. There was very little Cullen could offer him that he wouldn’t want.

“Nonsense,” he said, his other hand coming to rest on Cullen’s hip. He slid it under the hem of Cullen’s shirt but stopped at the top of Cullen’s breeches, only his thumb touching the warm skin of the Commander’s side. “Your soldiers were amused and were fondly recalling their own peccadillos when I passed them.”

Cullen groaned and let his head drop down onto Dorian’s shoulder as he blushed. Dorian couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face at such a familiar action.

“Maker have mercy,” Cullen whined.

“Shush,” Dorian said with open amusement. “You’re just like them now. They like that. It makes you more human.”

Cullen raised his head. “They thought I wasn’t human?” he asked dubiously.

“Commanding officers always seem distant,” Dorian said soothingly. “It’s not a bad thing but now you’re… one of them. They like it.”

“And you?” Cullen asked, changing the mood.

Dorian’s smile was coy. “I liked it very much.” He slid his hand up onto Cullen’s side, drawing a small indrawn breath from the man. “And I’d very much like to see it again.”

He held his breath a little. They’d been talking about anything but what this actually was and now he had moved things along to where he might well find out. Cullen was looking at him now, long and intent, then he stepped back. Dorian hovered on the edge of uncertainty then Cullen pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. He was blushing furiously and Dorian could see his own insecurity mirrored in Cullen’s eyes. He stepped forward and placed both hands on Cullen’s chest.

“I had always wondered how far down that blush goes,” he said with a soft, impish smile.

Cullen’s blush deepened and Dorian leaned in and kissed him. Cullen made a soft sound as he kissed back. Dorian’s hands roamed across his chest then along his sides and up his back. He felt old scars interspersed along smooth skin and he couldn’t get enough of it. He felt Cullen’s hand cradle his head and couldn’t resist moving right along towards the laces of the man’s breeches. Cullen gasped into his mouth but made no other protest and Dorian took that as tacit permission to continue.

The laces proved difficult with his shaking hands – and he wasn’t sure when or _why_ his hands were shaking – and finally Cullen chuckled and reached for them himself. His breeches fell to the floor and he kicked them aside and Dorian took a couple of steps back to get a good look at what he’d seen so briefly at the tavern.

Cullen was about his height but broader across the chest and shoulders, strongly built from his years wearing armour and wielding a sword and shield. His pale skin was scarred in a few places, though they didn’t detract from his beauty, and flushed red from his face midway down his chest. His chest was lightly furred with a delightful trail leading down to his cock. Unlike Dorian, Cullen didn’t trim his pubic hair but he didn’t mind, not when it framed Cullen’s rapidly thickening cock so deliciously.

Dorian let his gaze wander back up until he was looking at Cullen’s face again. The Commander was beet red but there was an adorable expression of bashful pride on his face, as though he was not ashamed of what he looked like but unused to someone admiring him so intimately.

“Oh, Amatus,” Dorian breathed, unaware of just what he’d called Cullen. “You are beautiful.”

Cullen’s slow, shy smile drew Dorian in like a moth to a flame. He rested his hands on Cullen’s chest, letting his fingers riffle through the hair there for a moment before he slid them down over Cullen’s stomach, both of them chuckling as the muscles there twitched under his touch. Then Dorian, feeling greatly daring, wrapped one hand around Cullen’s erection.

Cullen tilted his head back and groaned, soft and low, one hand reaching out to clutch at Dorian’s shoulder. His grip tightened when Dorian began to slowly, gently move his hand. He kept his grip too loose and soft, a gentle tease because the sight in front of him was captivating. Cullen might be stoic on the battlefield and stern in the War Room but here, in front of Dorian, he showed no reserve. His pleasure was writ large across his face and his breathy moans and pleas for more had Dorian shuddering, his cock as hard as the one he held in his hand.

Finally Dorian could no longer bear it. He dropped to his knees and in one swift move, swallowed Cullen’s cock to the root. Above him, Cullen cried out in surprise and arousal, his hips bucking slightly as the hand that hand been in his shoulder slid into his hair. Dorian was pleased when Cullen’s hand simply rested there and didn’t grip or try to control his actions. He rewarded that restraint by pulling out all the tricks he’d learned in years of debauchery back home. This time, however, there was no air of shame or disdain, no feeling of anger or contempt, no desire to control or coerce or manipulate. There was just the genuine need to bring pleasure to his lover.

“Dorian,” Cullen gasped, his warning obvious.

Dorian didn’t stop though, instead he hummed his approval and a moment later felt Cullen’s release spill over his tongue and down his throat. He swallowed all that he could and when he finally pulled away, he smiled at the noise Cullen made, a delightful mix of a whine from overstimulation and a whimper of loss. The man’s knees buckled then but Dorian caught him and made sure he didn’t fall. Cullen immediately curled in towards him, making Dorian catch his breath with surprise and wonder.

It took a moment for that wonder to sink in but when it did, he realised that Cullen seemed to have no intention of making him leave now that he had gained his pleasure. In fact, as he watched Cullen smiled at him, a lazy, pleased thing that Dorian had never seen before and immediately wanted to see again. Many, many times. Then his hand, broad and strong and warm, was on Dorian’s thigh, sliding up to cup his groin. Now it was Dorian’s turn to groan as he was reminded of his own arousal and urgent need. Cullen chuckled and in a move that made Dorian yelp, he got to his feet, scooped Dorian up and all but tossed him on the bed.

“I am not a delicate maiden to be tossed around,” he squawked, though he was sure the gleam in his eyes and smile on his face were giving the outright lie to his indignation.

He swallowed hard when Cullen climbed on the bed and began crawling up his body. There was a predatory air about him that was completely unexpected and utterly welcome and delightful. Apparently Cullen had some hidden depths and Dorian was going to be the one who reaped the benefit of them. He counted himself a lucky man and made a mental note to stay out of Josephine’s wine cellar for an extra month… alright, _week_ … once his initial month was over.

Then all thoughts of Josephine, wine and anything other than the man looming over him vanished as Cullen leaned down and kissed him. This wasn’t the shy, almost chaste kisses of before. This was deeper, more confident, more _sure_. 

“No, you are not,” Cullen said, smiling. “But if I am to return the favour, I felt we should be somewhere more comfortable.”

Something flared inside Dorian, some old uncertainty and shame creeping into the light from Cullen’s phrasing. A _favour_. Had he been wrong about Cullen’s intentions? The man gave him the answer.

“Besides, I wanted to see what you looked like in my bed,” Cullen continued, a hint of bashfulness threading through his predatory confidence in a way that Dorian found utterly adorable. “I’ve imagined this often. And… I hope I get to see it just as often?”

The question and the uncertainty underlying it made Dorian’s eyes widen. Cullen wanted this… _him_ … for more than just a night or two? More than just a tumble? One look at Cullen’s face gave him the answer he sought and warmth bloomed in Dorian’s chest. He raised his hands to cradle Cullen’s face, the man’s ever-present stubble bristling under his thumbs. His smile was fragile and bright, he knew it, but he didn’t care when he saw the answering smile growing on Cullen’s face.

“I don’t bring clothes back to just anyone, you know?” he said with a coyness and joy that he’d never felt before.

Cullen laughed. “I think, in the future, you will be the only one who gets to see me naked.”

“No more Wicked Grace?” Dorian asked with faux innocence.

Cullen’s smile was wry. “No more Wicked Grace.”

He turned his attention to Dorian’s clothes and started undoing laces and buckles with a dexterity and determination Dorian could only admire. And when he then started tracing every piece of newly exposed skin with his lips, Dorian gave himself over to his lover with a brief fleeting thought that he really _did_ need to find a way to thank Josephine for her skill with Wicked Grace.


End file.
